Barbed Wire and Roses
by D. M. Evans
Summary: One of Wesley's Watcher friends comes to town to investigate a friend's death bringing her up against Wolfram and Hart
1. Default Chapter

Barbed Wire and Roses D. M. Evans Disclaimer - Nope still not scriptwriting in LaLa Land. All characters are the property of Joss et al. Well, except Saeth. She's mine. Rating - R Spoilers - None, set season 2 of Angel between 'Epiphany' and 'Dead End' Summary - One of Wesley's Watcher friends comes to town to investigate the death of her friend, bringing her up against Wolfram and Hart.  
  
"That is one of the scariest sounds I've ever heard," Gunn said as he and Cordy entered the Hyperion.  
  
Cordy shrugged. "Sounds like Wesley laughing."  
  
"That's the point. English never laughs like that," Gunn argued, "And Angel's no fountain of ha-ha's either."  
  
"Yeah? When's the last time you laughed?" Cordy asked then frowned. "You're right. This is scary."  
  
They crept up on their boss' office, half-expecting Wesley to be under attack by some demon that killed by jocularity. Instead, all they saw was Wesley taking tea with a thirty-something woman. She was a contrast to Wesley's still somewhat stiff and formal demeanor. Her Birkenstock sandals hung battered and stained from her calloused feet. Smooth, long, tanned legs draped over her chair covered only by a pair of scruffy khaki shorts, loaded with pockets. Her white tank top stretched over her generous chest and bore the insignia of a college neither 'fang gang' member knew. Her long, nearly black hair had been swept back into a ponytail and she gave off the air of 'perpetual college student.' She nodded at the duo and Wesley looked back over his shoulder at them.  
  
"Oh, I didn't hear you come in. I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Dr. Saeth Maddoc." Wesley gestured at the woman. "Saeth, these are two of my friends and fellow investigators, Cordelia Chase and Charles Gunn."  
  
"Yes, Cordelia is the seer you were telling me about," Saeth said, getting to her feet. She held out a calloused hand to Cordy.  
  
Cordy gave Wesley a curious look and had to fight to restrain herself from falling into old habits and suggesting a hand lotion Saeth might want to look into. Saeth's firm handshake nearly made Cordy wince. "He did, did he?"  
  
"He knew I'd be interested. I'm very much looking forward to meeting Angel when he wakes up." She held out her hand to Gunn as well. "And I'm pleased to meet both of you."  
  
"Same here. So you know about Angel right?" Gunn asked cautiously.  
  
She bobbed her head, her ponytail swinging. "It'll be fascinating to meet the Scourge of Europe."  
  
"Most people would want to avoid that," Gunn said, sprawling on one of the available chairs.  
  
"And Angel's not like that any more," Cordy said, thinking of how close Angel had recently come to reverting to form.  
  
"Well, if he were, I doubt any of us would be sitting here," Saeth said and Cordy glared.  
  
"Saeth is a Watcher," Wesley offered, "And belongs to one of the oldest wizarding families in the United Kingdom."  
  
Saeth snorted. "I can't help but think I should be going to Hogwarts any time someone mentions my 'wizarding family'."  
  
"So you're good with the magic?" Gunn asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You bringing the fight here?"  
  
"In a manner of speaking, yes," she replied.  
  
"Just what we needed, someone else's fight," Cordelia grumbled. "You'd better be a paying customer."  
  
"Well, actually it could be your fight. I've been sent to help," Saeth replied. "And I'm not a customer of any kind."  
  
Gunn turned to Wesley, "What fight?"  
  
"Something we didn't even know about. It could be the Powers That Be don't think Angel's help will be required or perhaps they're waiting until something further happens before sending you a vision, Cordelia," Wesley said, fussing with his glasses. "I wish I would have had a little more warning that you were coming, Saeth, so I could have prepared everyone."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You know what ponces make up the Council. They still haven't forgiven you for the Sunnydale fiasco so why condescend to tell you anything. I sent you that email but you suck at checking your account."  
  
Wesley squirmed uncomfortably. "I wish that weren't true about the Council but I know it is."  
  
"What sort of trouble are we expecting?" Gunn asked, collecting himself from his sprawl. He looked alert and ready for action.  
  
"I'd prefer to wait until Angel's awake before I get into specifics but it had to do with an artifact found at a dig outside of Santa Barbara, an artifact from the Chumash tribe. I'm a doctor of archeology, though I usually stay in Wales. A friend of mine was on the dig here in California. She emailed me about some law firm hassling her for the item, claiming it was found on land owned by their client, that she never had proper authority to dig in the first place and that they wanted the item. She replied that she did indeed have proper authority and all items recovered were going to be returned to the Indigenous people once a study was made of them. Forty-eight ago she was found washed up on the beach. The artifact is missing," Saeth said, tapping her short nails against her teacup.  
  
"Wolfram and Hart?" Cordelia asked, knowing she didn't need to be a seer to guess at that.  
  
Saeth nodded. "Wesley said that it wouldn't be unreasonable to think they're involved with Elyta's death." She took a deep breath. "Been trying not to think about it too hard so we were just catching up on old times waiting for you and Angel."  
  
"Lots of old times?" Gunn asked with a licentious look thrown Wesley's way.  
  
The ex-Watcher blushed. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."  
  
"I've known Wes since he first joined the Watchers, not real well at first since I'm attached to an Enclave in Wales," Saeth said. "But we usually exchange a couple of emails a week lately."  
  
"And you've been a Watcher long?" Cordelia asked, giving her a fish-eyed look. "We've had some real problems with Watchers from time to time, no offense."  
  
"Like I said, we can be a real bunch of tossers but yeah, I've been at it long. My parents were Watchers. Six months after I was born a black star came across my path, saying 'hey, check her out, she's a Slayer in Waiting.' Well lovely. I was put into training as soon as I could walk. I lucked out and didn't get the gig." Saeth grinned grimly. "I decided I was just too weird to be anything but a Watcher so I moved into that once I was too old to be Chosen. I wanted a life outside of the Council so I made sure I went to college. Granted, archeology doesn't differ all that much, what with all the research. I tell you what, I'm starving. Any chance of snagging some supper before Angel wakes up?"  
  
"I think that can be arranged."  
  
* * *  
  
They were half way through their take-away Chinese when Angel surfaced. He paused in the doorway, seeing a stranger sitting with his friends. She glanced up at him, her chopsticks freezing just in front of her mouth for a moment as she regarded him then she plucked the piece of orange chicken off with her unpainted lips. He took a few steps closer and a little blue flash caught their attention. It was so quick they would have thought they imagined it had they all not tried to track it.  
  
"What was that?" Angel asked, his eyes not leaving the stranger.  
  
"Angel, this is my friend, Dr. Saeth Maddoc," Wesley said, not addressing the question.  
  
"She's a Watcher," Cordy added with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.  
  
Saeth got up, shoving her chopsticks into her food so she could offer him her hand. "Nice to meet you. Sorry about that. I should have turned it off."  
  
"What off?" Angel said, letting her pump his hand.  
  
"I have a wide bubble of protective spells around me. That one lets me know if the undead are getting a little too close for comfort." She smiled.  
  
Angel's eyebrows lifted and Gunn hooted.  
  
"You can sense vampires approaching? Can you cast that spell on us? Does it work for other demons?" he asked rapidly, his chocolate eyes lighting up.  
  
"There are other spells for sensing demons and yes, I have them woven into my bubble and no, I can't cast it on you, I'm afraid," Saeth said, with an apologetic shrug.  
  
"Knew that was coming. Giles would have had one of those for us and Buffy if it were easy," Cordelia said, taking a swig of her diet cola.  
  
Saeth cocked her head to one side. "You knew the Slayer?"  
  
A sour look slid over Cordy's face. "Went to high school with her. Everything started going wrong the day she showed up. I went from Queen of Sunnydale High to .this." She heaved a huge sigh and attacked her shrimp in oyster sauce. "I guess being a Watcher and all you know Buffy, too and Giles."  
  
"No, I've never met the Slayer.guess that's a good thing really. I mean what would I say to her? 'Sorry you got screwed out of a nice long normal life and boy, am I ever glad I wasn't you?' Of course, back when I was young I welcomed the chance to be the Slayer. Most of the Slayers in waiting do. We talked so big but I think most of us were really rather scared at the idea that it could be one of us," Saeth said, shoving a lock of her wayward walnut hair back into her ponytail. "But I do however, know Rupert. Haven't seen him in a long time but I do know him. I got sent to him when my parents decided that I wasn't a nice proper witch."  
  
"You weren't. As I recall, you arrived in England with a mohawk and a pierced tongue," Wesley said with a hint of distaste.  
  
"It was the 80's. Retro-punk was in and if you weren't such a prig back then you'd have liked me like that." Saeth's green eyes flashed fire at him.  
  
"I'm missing something. Why were you sent to this Giles guy?" Gunn asked, scraping the bottom of his container hunting for one last morsel.  
  
"He was supposed to lecture me about the improper use of magic," Saeth replied.  
  
"Because he was such a juvenile delinquent?" Cordy piped up.  
  
Saeth laughed. "You do know him."  
  
"Being lectured is a drag," Gunn said, giving up on the container.  
  
"Actually it was fun. I pointed out he could stand there lecturing me or we could go do something fun. After the first several of Tomos Watkin's 'Merlin's Stouts,' the rest becomes a blur. We sort of lost a whole week. We're pretty sure we had fun though." Saeth laughed, thinking back on it. "At least he appreciated my pierced tongue, Wes."  
  
Wesley just wagged his head, covering his eyes.  
  
"Eww, I don't need any visuals, thank you," Cordy said, wrinkling her nose.  
  
"Gunn's not the only one who's missing something," Angel said. "I missed out on what brought you to L.A. I would have thought Wesley would have mentioned he had a friend coming to town." Angel glanced at his friends thinking maybe they had cut him out of things again. He was still trying to work his way back into their good graces.  
  
"Wes didn't know. He didn't check his email. Luckily, I know where he works."  
  
"Her friend was murdered," Wesley said softly. "After a conflict with Wolfram and Hart."  
  
Angel nodded. "That would explain why you're here."  
  
"Yes and I was waiting for you to arrive so I could explain in detail." Saeth set her dinner aside. "Dr. Elyta Ashworth was working here on the Channel Islands when she emailed me about a spectacular find. She and I had gone through Cambridge together and knew I had an interest in things of well, let's just say magical bents."  
  
"What did she find? Is this the artifact that was taken?" Wesley asked.  
  
Saeth nodded. "She was certain she had found the Sxil-kat knty Tomolo of the Chumash people. There were descriptions of the tomolo in several arcane Spanish missionary texts and what she found fit the description well. Given that Elyta is dead and the tomolo is missing suggests she was right."  
  
Wesley shared a dark look with his companions. "The fact that Wolfram and Hart are even in the picture gives it a lot of credence."  
  
"Tell me about them," Saeth prompted.  
  
"It's a law firm on the surface," Angel said.  
  
"But underneath it's a whole lot darker. They're experts in the improper use of magic, not to mention demons," Wesley said. "They've seemed to make it their mission to destroy Angel."  
  
Saeth gnawed her lower lip then said, "With the tomolo they might just be able to do that."  
  
"What is a tomolo?" Cordy asked, settling back, waiting for the long drawn out Watcher-esque explanation.  
  
"Tomolo is Chumash for 'boat'."  
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You speak Chumash, too?"  
  
"Do I look like I would know the language of a small tribe of people thousands of miles away from my home?" Saeth shot back, sensing the hostility the younger woman seemed to have for her.  
  
"You're a Watcher, aren't you?" Cordy glared.  
  
"Touché. Well, no I don't speak Chumash but Elyta did fill me in on a few words of it. She was the one with the interest in America's indigenous people. I'm more interested in my country's indigenous folk.and weapons. That's my area of expertise. I'm good with ways to kill people," Saeth said. "The Sxil-kat Knty Tomolo translates to the 'fox-island boat.' It's an effigy carved of bone in the shape of a boat. Scrimshawed, more or less, into it are a plethora of ol-olkay, porpoises, which the Chumash believed were once Chumash tribesman who were going to drown and Hutash, the Earth goddess, saved by turning them into porpoises. It's amazing how often that myth turns up in cultures all around the world." Saeth's green eyes sparkled as she went full-bore into Watcher mode. She pouted seeing all the impatient looks she was getting. "Anyhow, the artifact that Elyta uncovered met that part of the description and there were remnants of multicolored paints on it. The tomolo was supposed to be covered with a mistayo, a rainbow."  
  
"What does this tomolo do that would make Wolfram and Hart take notice?" Angel asked, trying to prod her along. He, like Cordy, was seeing it must be inherent Watcher training to expound endlessly.  
  
"It was supposed to be a gift to Hutash's favored priestess during a time of strife. Not only did the Chumash have the Spanish to contend with, but they had all their little wars with other Chumash tribes and presumably other tribes as well. Hutash had her husband, Sky Snake, imbue the boat with part of his magic to call down lightning and it was also said to be able to call forth floods," Saeth replied.  
  
"That would make it an impressive weapon," Wesley said. "Where was it found?"  
  
"On a dig in near the city of Kaxas.I guess you'd call it Prisoner's Harbor, on Santa Cruz island," Saeth said.  
  
"If this thing was so powerful why didn't these Chumash dudes turn it on the Spanish?" Gunn asked.  
  
"It was somehow lost. The Chumash believed Hutash thought better of the gift, seeing how much evil it could be put to," Saeth said. "Others believed the Spanish stole it but didn't know how to use it. That's more likely. It passed into the faded memory of myth until just this month. Elyta told me about it. It was the one thing she had hoped to hide from the Chumash people. She believed its power was real, as did I. She wanted to give it to me so it would be safe."  
  
"Locked away in the Council's vaults," Wesley said and she nodded.  
  
"But somehow Wolfram and Hart found out," Angel said, "And you think they killed your friend for it."  
  
"It's possible. She's dead and the tomolo is gone. I'm going to find out who murdered Elyta and get back that magical artifact," Saeth said.  
  
"And you need our help?" Angel asked.  
  
"It is our mission," Cordelia said, but looked rather unhappy about it. If her companions took the time to see, they'd notice she didn't like Saeth much.  
  
"I'm not sure how I'm going to go about this but I didn't honestly come here looking for help. Wesley's told me how you've gone up against the law firm in the past. So I came by to see an old friend while I had the chance and see if he could at least give me the informational tools to go up against Wolfram and Hart. If you want to help, I wouldn't say no, however," Saeth said.  
  
"I'm thinking turning around and heading home isn't in your plans," Angel said.  
  
Saeth grinned darkly. "I work special ops for the Watchers. I can handle myself."  
  
"Special ops? Aren't they the ones who came after Faith?" Cordy asked, shooting an irritated look Angel's way as if to say she still didn't like him keeping contact with the Slayer. "The thugs?"  
  
"They're not thugs, Cordelia," Wesley said, sparing an apologetic look for Saeth.  
  
Saeth shrugged dismissively. "We do what has to be done. Sometimes it gets a little bloody. When I get sent on a mission, I'm not expected to ever return. If I do, great but everyone's prepared for the fact I could get killed."  
  
"You don't look much like a thug," Cordelia said, with a wave at Saeth's outfit. "You look more like a tree-hugger."  
  
Saeth's lips parted but she held back her retort. She didn't have time for a cat fight as good as it might feel. "I'm mostly an archaeologist, granted an archaeologist who's been trained in the hunt and kill since before I can remember. Like I said, I'm not asking for help but I'm not turning it down if you care to offer it."  
  
"I think that the tomolo is something we would not want to leave in the hands of Wolfram and Hart," Wesley said.  
  
"I'm not sure the Watchers need to have it either," Angel said darkly then regretted it. It was hard to keep in mind Wesley was in charge and not him.  
  
"Fine. We'd rather have it destroyed than in the wrong hands," Saeth said.  
  
"We could help you look into it," Angel said, forgetting to look to Wes for confirmation.  
  
"Well, if it's all decided I have a call-back tonight for that play I auditioned for, so if you'll excuse me," Cordelia said, sweeping to her feet. "You don't need me for this part anyhow."  
  
"Yes, fine, it'll probably be a late night of research," Wesley said, oblivious to the tension between the women.  
  
"Angel, you wanted to check out that graveyard for a nest of Oerke demons tonight," Gunn said. "They don't wake up until the moon's way up so if we don't get going, they'll be out of there."  
  
"Oh, I should help them with this," Wesley said.  
  
Angel waved him off. "Gunn and I can handle it. You probably haven't seen Saeth in a long time. You two catch up."  
  
Wesley gave him a grateful look. Saeth got up, smiling.  
  
"Thanks. To be honest, I'm a little tired for research tonight. I could use a little unwinding. If you're sure you don't need Wesley, I would like the time to chat. Oerke demons are immobile until the moon's at its zenith so you guys shouldn't have any troubles with them," Saeth said.  
  
"Have fun. Because if you're going up against Wolfram and Hart, I guarantee you won't be having time for much else," Angel said and headed for the weapon's cache.  
  
* * *  
  
"I.shoulda.went wid them," Wesley slurred loudly, weaving on his barstool. The music seemed to be bouncing him out of his seat.  
  
Saeth snorted. "As if Angel and Gunn need help with Oerke demons. Even you could take them with one arm tied around your back." She drained the last of her beer and wiggled her mug at the bartender. "Don't know why I bother. The Yanks have the worst cwrw in the world."  
  
"What now?" Wesley blinked, trying to get the three of her to form back into one solid woman. All he accomplished was to merge her with other people at the crowded bar.  
  
"Cwrw." She pointed at the taps. "Beer."  
  
Wesley tried to pronounce it, made a few 'ka' sounds and gave up. "Order me one, too."  
  
"They cut you off, mate. You're a sloppy drunk." Saeth accepted her fresh mug of brew. "One more and I'll be carrying you home and I don't fancy that."  
  
"Nobody wants me," Wesley moaned, slumping loose-limbed against the brass rail.  
  
"And a crybaby drunk. Next time I'm taking you to a coffee house so we can catch up. It's embarrassing," Saeth said, glancing around the obviously too- trendy "Irish" bar whose idea of Irish beer was Killian's.  
  
"It's true though. Nobody wants me. Did I ever tell you what Quentin Travers said to me when the Council fired me?" Wesley's dark eyes went hangdog.  
  
"Yeah, ignore him. Mae o'n rel coc oen," she said bitterly.  
  
Wesley peered at her. "The drunker I get, the more Welsh you speak. Or is it the drunker you get.you know that was never my best language. Would it kill you guys to lay off the double constants and find a few vowels?"  
  
Saeth snorted up her beer, clamping a hand over her face, trying not to spew beer everywhere. She slapped him. "I said Quentin was a right idiot."  
  
Wesley processed this then slid his glasses off to clean them. "Sounds like you said he was a lamb's cock."  
  
"See, you do understand some Welsh. 'Coc oen' is a 'lamb's cock'. Most men are, too," Saeth said, catching Wesley's glasses as they slipped from his numb fingers.  
  
"It's not just the Council who doesn't want me. Angel Investigations.they don't really want to follow my lead. They still want Angel in charge.secretly. They pretend they don't but they do. I told you what he did." Wesley's head bobbed as he lost his thread of the conversation. He sniffled and Saeth prayed he wouldn't start blubbering.  
  
"You called me when it happened. Angel almost went bad."  
  
"Yeah, so we carried on without him." Wesley cradled a hand protectively across his gut. "I got shot."  
  
"I know, Wesley. You called me once you were well enough to complain." She smiled gently. She wasn't the most sympathetic listener. Wesley knew that from experience but never seemed to care.  
  
"He came back and we all pretended it was better without him. Rubbed it in Angel's face. God, we were so pitiful and childish." Wesley's wan face found a new level of sadness.  
  
"That's a word for it." Saeth drained away the rest of her mug again. She recalled Wesley's recent emails. He felt bad about what they were doing. He knew better. He knew it was juvenile and dangerous. When someone was teetering on the edge you don't give him a push. "That's it, I'm taking you home. You're too damn morose."  
  
Wesley glanced over his shoulder at the door. "It's too dark out there. Could be vampires.or demons."  
  
The guy at the next barstool looked over at that.  
  
"That's why we aren't walking home." She waved over the bartender as she pulled out her cell phone. "Do you have a number for a cab service? We've had too much to drive home."  
  
The bartender gladly gave her the number. Wesley passed out on the way home, drooling on her shoulder. Saeth stroked his dark hair affectionately. He had always been a prancing prat. It wasn't until the last few years that he had come into his own. Saeth wasn't sure why she had always liked him. Maybe it was his inherent need to do well, even if he sometimes was too rule bound to do it right. Maybe it was because both of them had horrible parents, his father, her mother. Both were Council brats. They had a connection. She knew he needed someone to talk to, and tonight so had she. She missed Elyta more than ever.  
  
She cursed at the cab driver who refused to help her with Wesley in front of the Hyperion. Rather than help her half-carry Wesley into the hotel he drove off without his fare once he realized where he was. Maybe the locals knew the hotel was haunted or something. At least she had managed to rouse Wesley who was now singing some ridiculous frat song from his college days as they wove up the steps to the hotel. She expected it to be deserted but to her surprise the lights were blaring in the lobby and Gunn, Angel and Cordelia were pacing it anxiously.  
  
"Did something go wrong with the Oerke demons?" Saeth asked, stumbling inside with Wesley.  
  
"Do you know what time it is?" Cordelia demanded, stomping across the floor.  
  
"From downwind, it's Miller time," Gunn said, waving a hand in front of his face.  
  
"It's not even two in the morning," Saeth protested, tightening her grip on Wesley who nearly lurched free.  
  
"Wesley wasn't answering his phone. We thought something had happened to you two," Cordelia said, stalking over to them, oblivious to Saeth's look of warning.  
  
"Turned the bloody thing off," Wesley said, disengaging from Saeth to crash against the couch. He flopped down on it, nearly rolling to the floor.  
  
"I guess I'm glad I brought him back here then. It occurred to me a little to late that I didn't know how far away he lived from the bar. I wasn't sure I had enough cab fare," Saeth said.  
  
"It looks like you broke him," Angel observed dryly, glancing down at the sprawling rag doll of an ex-Watcher.  
  
"He'll live." Saeth snorted. "So, what happened that you needed Wesley?"  
  
"Nothing actually. It's just that English checks in way too regular and when he didn't we." Gunn trailed off sheepishly.  
  
"Panicked," Saeth supplied for him.  
  
"Let's just say we were concerned," Angel said, his eyes darting between Cordy and Saeth. He could read the tense body language and hoped Cordelia wouldn't do anything stupid. He wasn't making any bets on it though.  
  
"Sorry but you did say he could have the night," Saeth said. "Is it okay he sleeps there?" She pointed to Wesley who was already snoring loudly.  
  
"I'm not touching that," Gunn said.  
  
"Don't blame you. He looks like a drunk Puddleglum," Saeth said.  
  
"A what now?" Cordelia's brow furrowed.  
  
"You know, Puddleglum, all long skinny legs," Saeth said.  
  
Angel laughed, trying to swallow it back. "It's from Narnia," he said but Gunn and Cordy didn't look any more elucidated. "And you're right, he does."  
  
"I know. Well, better let me find a patch of floor for myself. I can't remember where the hell my temporary apartment is. I'm a wee bit drunk." Saeth pulled the band out of her hair, freeing it from its tail.  
  
"Could have fooled me," Gunn said.  
  
"Yes, well that's usually the point," Saeth said. "I'm not one to lose complete control."  
  
"There are rooms here with beds," Cordelia said. "They're old though, sort of gross. The flooring isn't so good on a few of the floors."  
  
"I've slept in worse fleabags. This is pretty plush in comparison," Saeth assured her.  
  
"This way then." Cordelia took off with an irritated quickness to her pace.  
  
They all wended down the halls to one of the rooms. The furniture was all dust covered and the place smelled closed and musty.  
  
Saeth glanced over at Angel. "It's your place, sure you want me here?"  
  
"I can trust you not to stake me in my sleep?" he asked, a smile touching his brown eyes.  
  
"You have my word on it. Wesley vouched for you. That's good enough for me," Saeth said.  
  
"Then you can stay."  
  
"Man, we really need to fix this place up. The dust is going to choke you," Gunn said, looking at the brownish grey velvet that coated everything. Was it dust or a herd of mice?  
  
"I don't think I could lie on that bed," Cordelia said with a smug smile.  
  
Saeth shrugged and gestured at the bed. A glowing shelf formed above it and she slid onto the shelf. "Night." She rotated her arm in an arc drawing more bluish light over herself in a cocoon.  
  
Gunn and Cordelia turned wide eyes on Angel who just closed the door.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Gunn asked.  
  
"Probably some sort of protective shell," Angel replied.  
  
"I could use me one of those." Gunn nodded in appreciation. "Probably takes a lot of magic."  
  
"Doubtless," Angel replied, heading back downstairs.  
  
"Could it hurt you?" Cordelia asked, a concerned look on her face.  
  
"If I touched it, most likely," the vampire shrugged. "But I'm not going to."  
  
"You sound almost.afraid," Gunn said cautiously.  
  
Angel shot him a dark look but Gunn remained unapologetic. "Not afraid. Vampires know to fear the Slayer but we consider the Watchers, on the whole, as sort of a joke. Except for the Special Ops. They earn respect. She isn't kidding. She came here prepared to die. The Special Ops do the Watcher's dirty work: rescues, interrogations, captures, wetworks."  
  
"Huh?" Cordelia asked.  
  
"Assassination." Angel smiled wryly. "That's the thing, it's too easy to become nearly as ruthless as the things you're supposed to be protecting the innocent from."  
  
"I hear that," Gunn said.  
  
"Some of us considered the Special Ops to be a little psychotic and they are a prize when it comes to converting people. A vampire that used to be Special Ops is usually hell on wheels," Angel said. "And if she finds out that Wolfram and Hart are behind her friend's death, she's likely to finish off what I started."  
  
Gunn shifted a bit nervously at that, torn between his street upbringing telling him that it was a good thing to be that hard and that part of him that said it was wrong to hurt another human. Cordelia opened her mouth to protest but Gunn thunked her shoulder and she held her tongue.  
  
Cordelia, descending the stairs, pointed to the unconscious Wesley. "Do we leave him?"  
  
"Might as well," Angel said.  
  
"Tomorrow is going to be an ugly day for him," Gunn said, feeling a twinge of a sympathy hangover for his friend.  
  
Cordelia smiled wickedly. "Serves him right." 


	2. Premature Showdown

Barbed Wired and Roses  
Author - D. M. Evans  
Feedback - ripewickedplum2@yahoo.com  
Disclaimer - Nope still not scriptwriting in LaLa Land. All characters are the property of Joss et al. Well, except Saeth. She's mine.  
Rating - R  
Spoilers - None, set season 2 of Angel  
Summary - One of Wesley's Watcher friends comes to town to investigate the death of her friend, bringing her up against Wolfram and Hart.  
  
CHAPTER TWO - Premature Showdown   
Saeth headed down the stairs, feeling better after a quick teleportation back to her place - now that she was sober enough to do it - for a shower and change of clothes. She knew she probably shouldn't return to the Hyperion and spare herself a confrontation with Cordelia but she suspected if she didn't put in an appearance it would only generate more questions and hostilities. Besides, she wanted to pump them for more information about Wolfram and Hart. She had planned on doing that with Wesley but last night had disintegrated into remembering old times and seeing the world through the bottom of a beer mug until it all seemed like a Dali painting, yet comfortable at the same time.  
  
She followed their voices to Wesley's office. Cordelia was trying to make him eat something ugly in a bowl, possibly some organic cereal with blueberries and Wesley was turning several shades of green at the mere thought. Gunn was propped up against a bookcase looking highly amused by it all, as did Angel who Saeth was very surprised to see. The office window was tightly shuttered for him. She examined his broad face swiftly and decided a smile just didn't suit him. It made him look goofy. He had a face better suited for sulky yet sensual expressions. All eyes turned towards her, hearing the soft padding of her sandaled feet. Wesley's eyes were watery and bloodshot. He was simply a lousy drunk, there was nothing more to it, she decided.  
  
"Morning everyone. I see you survived, Wesley," she said brightly.  
  
"The jury is still out on that." Gunn snickered, trailing a finger along the dusty bookshelf.  
  
"Why aren't you looking like I feel," Wesley grumbled, turning away from Cordelia and the bowl.  
  
"Yes, you do look a little more alive than he does," Cordelia said, giving Saeth a quick appraisal. A little smirk crossed her pretty face seeing Saeth in yet another set of baggy shorts and a black T-shirt reading 'Sorry, it's my fault. I forgot you were an idiot.'   
  
Saeth knew she had failed some sort of fashion test with the younger woman and maybe that would take some of her competitive edge off. She could see the men didn't notice Cordelia's hostility or were afraid to address it. It was probably something they didn't understand but she did. Cordelia didn't want another woman around "her" men. "I'm a better drinker than he is. He was really off his tits last night," she said, approaching Wesley's desk. He smelled of cigarettes and beer. "Pllus, I'm showered and not wearing yesterday's clothes."  
  
"No kidding. He's getting pretty pungent at this point." Cordelia scowled at him, jabbing his shoulder with a finger then her brow furrowed. "Where did you find a working shower here?"  
  
"I'm assuming even the undead prefer to be clean," she said, looking at Angel.  
  
"There's no working showers on your floor and I know you didn't come into my territory," he said.   
  
"I remembered where I lived." She grinned.   
  
"You don't have a car," Gunn said. "Or did you rent one?"  
  
"Rented. It's here actually...I hope. I'd hate to explain to Hertz how I let their car get stolen." Saeth shrugged. "I teleported, if you must know."  
  
Gunn ran a hand over his bald head, a look of confusion on his face. "Does that mean what I think it means?"  
  
"More or less along the lines of 'beam me up Scotty'." Saeth grinned more broadly. "I can do it for long distances, too. Saves on plane fare, let me tell you, but it takes a lot of skill and energy. I would have passed on it except all that traveling and the bar left me really needing a shower. And I wasn't keen on waking up Angel and asking him to borrow his."  
  
"Man, you have all the cool tricks." Gunn smiled, an energy filling him. "Could you teach me that?"  
  
"You're not exactly great with magic, Charles," Wesley said, putting his head down on the desk. The younger man scowled at him.  
  
"It does require great control and concentration. It's a fairly high level spell and you'd think it would be good in combat but truth is, the concentration required is hard to do when you're trying not to die," Saeth said.  
  
"Still, it could get you out a jam," Gunn argued.  
  
"And it has. I could work with you a bit if I have time but trust me, this isn't something you could learn overnight," Saeth said.  
  
"You might be better off teaching Wesley," Angel said, thinking of what could be done with that sort of spell.  
  
"I've tried. Isn't it a little late in the day for you to be up, Angel?" Saeth asked cautiously, studying his unwavering expression. "Not that I'm complaining since I'd like to ask you more about Wolfram and Hart."  
  
"I was on my way to bed when someone woke up." Angel shot a devilish look at Wesley.  
  
"And torturing me was ever so much more important than getting sleep," Wesley moaned, not lifting his head. Cordy and Gunn laughed. Angel didn't quite feel as if he had earned back that right yet.  
  
"And fun, too," Saeth said. She waved her hands and a glass full of something thick and red appeared in one and a handful of clear capsules in the other. "Here, Wes, this will make you feel better. Alcohol is hell on the body's vitamin B. Takes these down with a little something sure to fix you up after you've taken on the piss."  
  
Wesley eyed it dubiously.  
  
"Give it a try, English. It can't make you feel worse. She looks okay so it probably works," Gunn said. His dark eyes brightened, anticipating mischief.  
  
Wesley took the pills, gulping down the liquid in three long swallows. He turned red then green. After controlling his gag reflex, he asked, "What in the hell was that?"  
  
A smile blossomed on Saeth's tanned face. "A bloody bull."  
  
"Oh, that sounds nasty." Cordelia wrinkled her nose.  
  
"It's just a Bloody Mary made with V-8 juice, beef bouillon and Tabasco," Saeth offered.  
  
"I think it's eating a hole in my stomach," Wesley moaned, clutching the hollow that passed as his belly.  
  
"Yeah but I bet your head doesn't hurt any more," she replied brightly.  
  
"Thank you, Saeth. I'll make sure they inscribed that on my headstone." Wesley glowered at her. "Why don't you serve this to the lawyers at Wolfram and Hart and you won't have to worry about them any more."  
  
She patted him on the head. "Poor baby. Here, these might cheer you up." With another wave of her hand a plate of flat, thick cookies appeared. "Picau ar y maen."  
  
"Which is?" Cordelia asked, eyeing the cookies hungrily.  
  
"They're like stone baked cakes. They're best hot if you have a microwave. You're all welcome to some."  
  
Cordelia went to heat them up and Saeth turned to the others.  
  
"Seriously, what can I expect of Wolfram and Hart?"  
  
"You can expect them to not play fair," Angel said. "And if you get in their way, they'll try to kill you. They've been doing their best to destroy me."  
  
"Lovely. So maybe going to their law firm and announcing, 'hey why were you harassing my friend and what do you know about her death,' isn't the way to go," Saeth said, hopping up onto Wesley's desk so she could sit.  
  
"Only if you want to be a target," Angel said.  
  
Saeth frowned. "Wouldn't be the first time but if I can avoid it. Do you know Lilah Morgan, Mark Lustig or Lindsey MacDonald?"  
  
They all snorted. "Too well," Angel snarled.  
  
"Well, I've never heard of Lustig but the other two are the ones orchestrating Angel's fall," Wesley said.  
  
"They're bad news," Gunn said, the mischievous look gone from his eyes. He was all business now.  
  
"Who?" Cordy asked, coming back with the cookies. The room filled with the smell of spices and currants.   
  
"Lilah and Lindsey," Gunn said, scarfing a cookie.  
  
"Oh, no kidding. Lilah is a total bitch," Cordelia said, offering the plate to Wesley.  
  
"Well, they're the ones who were causing Elyta trouble and they'll be the ones I'm going after. I figure they're the obvious place to start looking for her killer," Saeth said, taking a cookie herself.  
  
"They probably wouldn't hesitate to have someone killed though I'm not sure they'd do it themselves. They try to draw some lines," Wesley said, dubiously.  
  
"They could do it," Angel said, his face setting into the grim lines Saeth figured were more natural for him than his smile. "You really might need our help."  
  
"I'll keep it in mind but for now I think I'd prefer it if they don't know I'm affiliated with you, it's safer for us both that way," Saeth said. "All right, I'll skip storming their offices for now and head over to Elyta's place. I promised her parents I'd pack up her apartment for them. Maybe I can find some more clues as to why Wolfram and Hart wanted that damn artifact so badly."  
  
"And Cordelia could prepare you a dossier on Lilah and Lindsey if you'd like," Wesley offered, oblivious to Cordy's withering look over him volunteering her services.  
  
"I'd appreciate that. I'll be back for it later. Enjoy the Picau ar y maen," Saeth said hopping off the door, and headed for the door.  
  
  
***  
  
Saeth leaned back on Elyta's couch, surveying the cramped apartment. She had thought it would have been bigger considering what Elyta had said rent was. That was a sure reason not to move to southern California. She nearly regretted her promise to Elyta's parents to pack up their daughter's things and send them home. They weren't up to it themselves. Some of Elyta's grad students promised to come help her and she would, in turn, hand over any project notes and whatnot she came across. The students gave her one of their spare keys for the apartment. Elyta liked to give her students free access to her.  
  
Saeth picked up a photo of Elyta, her café mocha skin highlighted by a jewel tone bikini. She looked happy. Tears stung Saeth's eyes. She was used to loss. It was a large part of being a Watcher. But Elyta hadn't been part of that life. She was a mundy. She didn't deserve to be drowned. Saeth knew that retrieving the lost artifact was only part of why she volunteered for this solo mission. Elyta's killers would pay for it, no matter what she had to do.  
  
Hearing voices in the hallway, Saeth blotted her eyes and readied a spell that would freeze most things in their tracks. One could never be too careful. She heard a key enter the lock but didn't relax. Yes, it could be one of Elyta's students finally arriving to help or it could be something else.  
  
"You're sure this is okay?" a middle-aged woman asked, swinging the door open.  
  
"It's part of an investigation, ma'am, just like the paperwork says," a tall, reedy, pale man replied, moving toward the open door.  
  
Saeth got to her feet, studying them. In addition to the woman at the door and the tall man, there was another woman in an obviously expensive lavender dress and a somewhat short young man with a longish haircut that didn't match the professional lines of his charcoal grey suit. "Really? The police didn't mention for me to expect anyone when I spoke to them earlier today."  
  
Everyone stared at her.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" the blond haired man asked.  
  
"The person who actually has a key to this place," Saeth shot back. "And I'd think the police would have told me to expect company since they said I could pack up Dr. Ashworth's belongings, indicating they're done with them. So, who are you three and what are you investigating?"  
  
"They said they were with a law firm," the rental agent said, looking nervous. "They showed me their cards."  
  
"You're done here, ma'am," the reedy man said. "This is between us and the lady with the key."  
  
Rather than protest, the rental agent fled quickly.  
  
"Law firm? Let me guess, Wolfram and Hart." Saeth's lips quirked up, seeing their surprised looks. "So much for leaving you for last. Hmm, I guess you must be Lilah Morgan." Saeth padded up to her in her bare feet, having ditched her sandals as soon as she entered the apartment. She hated shoes. "I'll confess I'm a little surprised. I thought I'd be dealing with two women and a man. Guess I liked the idea of two lady lawyers a little too much. So which of you is the Mic?" Saeth didn't have to be told the twin barbs hit home. The small man had to be Lindsey MacDonald. Her eyes swept over him. He didn't look like much but she knew Wesley and Angel had reason to think he was a danger. Her gaze lingered on his prosthetic arm, making a mental note of the weakness just in case he was the one who had Elyta killed and she would have to fight him later, then she jerked her head over to the blond man who was laughing.  
  
"It's an easy mistake to make," the blond said and Lindsey's lip curled.  
  
"That would make you Mark Lustig then. You haven't answered my question, what are you three investigating?"  
  
"You haven't answered ours either. Who are you and how did you know who we are?" Lilah asked.  
  
"You repeatedly harassed my good friend, tried to steal away her archaeology site and all the finds there in and then she turns up dead. Did you think I wouldn't know who you are?" Saeth asked, carefully not revealing much about herself.  
  
"We didn't steal anything. Dr. Ashworth's team was operating illegally," Lindsey said, as Lilah peeled away from the group and starting wandering about. "And we don't like your implication that we had something to do with the doctor's death."  
  
Saeth batted her eyes at him. "Did I imply that? Perhaps it was all the hostile correspondence from your office that gave me that impression. Yes, I've seen it all. I've kept it all with copies here and back home in Wales. Perhaps I'll give it to the police." Saeth hadn't wanted to tell them that, at least not until she read up on the information Wesley was having prepared for her but she wasn't afraid of this crew. She had dealt with scarier things back when she was in junior high in Slayer training. If being a target for them got her to the bottom of things faster, so be it.  
  
"And I'm sure the police are truly concerned, what with how fast they're allowing you to pack away her apartment," Lustig said. "The paper said it was considered to be an accident."  
  
Saeth snorted. "You, Ms. Morgan, care to get back with the others here where I can see you? I don't like the idea of you just wandering around and if you're looking for a purse to snoop around in to figure out my name, forget it. I didn't carry one here."  
  
Lilah flushed "What sort of woman doesn't have a purse?"  
  
"I forgot it. I hate when that happens. And as for Elyta's death being accidental, not a chance of it," Saeth said, herding Lilah back to her companions, both of whom were checking her out. Men! Saeth didn't know how they accomplished anything with how easily boobs distracted them.  
  
Lindsey scowled and Saeth noticed he quit checking her out so he could make eye contact with her. She didn't mind the appraisals she was getting from him and Lustig. If they were distracted, so much the better.   
  
"What makes you so sure?" Lindsey asked.  
  
Saeth stalked up to him and forced him to take a step back. She saw the resentment in his light blue eyes. At nearly 6'1" she had a few inches on him and made the most of them. "I've known Elyta since we were roommates back in our freshman year at Cambridge. She loved to sunbath but she was terrified of the water. She couldn't swim. She wouldn't get anywhere near the shoreline. With that knowledge and a little suggestion to look for needle marks, the medical examiner found a puncture in her right buttock and a thorough exam showed insulin in the track. He wouldn't have detected it otherwise but it seems Elyta was overdosed with insulin. She was almost dead when she hit the water. It was murder."  
  
She watched their faces. Surprise glittered through their cool facades. Did guilt come with it? Had they known Elyta's death was no accident? She couldn't be sure but she suspected they knew the archeologist had been murdered.   
  
"She could have accidentally taken too much," Lustig suggested.  
  
"She wasn't diabetic," Saeth said.  
  
"She could have been using it to lose weight. Injecting yourself is popular with the get-thin crowd," Lilah said, resting a hip against the couch nonchalantly.  
  
"Somehow I doubt it. So what the hell are you three looking for? More artifacts to steal? No, if it was something obvious the police might have twigged onto it. I'm betting you're looking for notes or journals or something along those lines," Saeth said and the lawyers didn't react. "Well, why don't you just turn around and leave? Or show me a search warrant and tell me what you're looking for."  
  
"We can get a restraining order to keep you from removing anything until we can determine if anything belonging to Wolfram and Hart is here," Lindsey said.  
  
"Go paperwork me to death, mate. Because until you do, I'm not letting you search in here and I promised Elyta's parents I'd handle packing up her belongings. The police said it's okay so until I hear otherwise, officially, that's what I'm going to do," Saeth replied, opening the door for them.  
  
"For someone who's not even from around here you sound awfully sure of yourself," Mark said.  
  
"I am," Saeth shot back. "But mostly, I'm tired, upset and hey, a little bit bitchy or else I wouldn't have dropped my rag and made that Mic crack but you know what else I am, fed up with you ponces trying to push around Elyta's group. So, you might want to walk through that door before I toss you out it."  
  
"Think you can?" Mark asked, his pale face going red and blotchy.  
  
"Elyta and I shared a love of rugby. We were excellent. It taught me more than what I'd need to know to crush the lot of you." Saeth had to fight to keep from reaching for him and shoving him through the mail slot on the door.  
  
"I don't see you being foolish enough to manhandle us," Lindsey said, heading for the door.  
  
The smug look on his face dug into her and Saeth knew he was right about that. "Piss off."  
  
"We'll be back. Care to give us a name for the restraining order or shall we just leave it as a general one covering all of Dr. Ashworth's belongings?" Lindsey asked.  
  
"Dr Saeth Maddoc. You can figure out how to spell it yourself. Try not to hurry back." She managed to shove him and Lilah out the door after Mark and slammed it on them. "Shit!" She grabbed up the phone and called Elyta's senior most grad student. "Hey, Ravena, you might want to get over to Dr. Ashworth's with every student you can get. They're going to try and seize some of Elyta's stuff...yeah I know that's crap. I think most of her journals and the such should be in her office and not here but I'll need your help in making sure...great, see you all then."  
  
Saeth hung up and cast a spell to seek other magic items just to be sure there was nothing else hiding that Elyta hadn't had a chance to tell her about. There was nothing. She had no idea how American law worked but she knew she was on the clock. She found two journals before the students arrived and she set the books into a holding chamber that was interdimensional just in case. Armed with several students, Saeth began the thorough search of the apartment, hoping to get it done before the lawyers could return. 


	3. Magical Boost

CHAPTER THREE – Magical Boost

Saeth watched the last of Elyta's students leave. They had found a few drawings of the dig, which they took with them back to the on-site offices and more of Elyta's journals, which Saeth put into the interdimensional holding space with the others. She was using more magick than she liked but there was little to be done for it. She had one big spell left to do so she cast it, sending all of Elyta's belongings, lock, stock and barrel to a holding place in Wales. She'd give her brother, Evan, a jingle and have him and his wife do the actual packing – after double checking to be sure there was nothing the Council might want – and give it to the Ashworths.

With the journals in their interdimensional space hooked to her like a backpack, she almost made it to the door, hoping for a momentary reprise from the tragedy but a knock stopped her. She hoped it was just a student who had forgotten something – though she'd have one hell of a time explaining how the apartment got suddenly empty. She had no desire to talk to the lawyers again. Her head pounded from a mix of exhaustion, hang over and overuse of magic. All she wanted was a good lie down. She opened the door, not the least bit shocked to see it was the worst possible scenario; Lilah and Lindsey stood in the hall.

"We have that restraining order," Lilah said, with an arrogant cock of her head.

Lindsey, however, was looking past Saeth. His mouth dropped. "Holy hell. It's all gone!"

"'Fraid so. You're a little late." Saeth smirked.

Rage sent tremors through Lilah's slim body. "You knew what you were doing was illegal!"

"I have no idea how your Yank legal system works. How was I to know you'd get that restraining order? I was fairly sure you were just trying to bully me. After all, the cops felt the place no longer had any value in the investigation. So why give you a restraining order? More importantly, why do you want one? What are you afraid I'd beat you to in Elyta's stuff?"

"We don't owe you any explanations." Lindsey's blue eyes met hers coldly.

"I'm probably going to have to disagree but that can wait until I get a chance to talk to Elyta's students and co-workers to get the overall picture of just what the hell's been happening here." Saeth smiled smugly. "But don't let it be said I play unfair. I will tell you that I did find a few drawings of the site layout. They're back onsite now if you care to take a look at them. And if you don't mind, I'd like to go home. I'm tired and I'm still in the mood to rip the lips off of someone every time I think about my friend being killed. You don't want to be in my line of sight, considering you're suspects. Especially you, Ms. Morgan, standing there pursing your lips like you smell something bad. They're making a tempting target." Saeth gauged Lilah's response. It was cooler than she liked it to be. She gave her credit; Lilah obviously didn't scare easily.

Lindsey glanced over at Lilah as well, his blue eyes twinkling. Saeth suspected he'd enjoy watching her maim his fellow lawyer. "Suspects according to who?" he asked.

"To me and the L.A. homicide division, especially after I turned over all my correspondence with Elyta dealing with your firm and the stolen artifact. They're slow off the mark, no doubt working this up cautiously, given that you're lawyers. But if the peelers here are anything like they are back in Wales, they'd love to put the screws to the likes of you." Saeth smiled viciously

"Sounds like you'd enjoy it as well." Lindsey's expression said he understood and might even approve.

"Your kind are nothing but a pain in my ass no matter what dig I'm on," she admitted with a shrug. "I'm sort of with Shakespeare on this topic."

"Shakespeare?" Lilah seemed bewildered and bored.

"'The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.' _ King Henry VI_,part two, act four, scene two," Lindsey said.

"Well read, gotta like that." Saeth patted his shoulder, favoring him with a deprecating grin.

Lindsey brushed her away, his synthetic hand thudding against her tanned fingers. "I wrote a paper around that quote."

"Refreshing.  If you'll excuse me." She pushed past him into the hall. "Oh, if you hurry you might have time to check all the post offices, UPS, Mailbox Etc and so on to find Elyta's stuff before it leaves the country. Except for the computer."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, the only sign that he was extremely interested in the computer. "Where is that?" 

"Was that what you were after? Elyta's hard drive?" Saeth stepped back up to him forcing him to step back, practically trampling Lilah. "Too bad. I've given it over to Detective Parkinson in homicide."

Lilah's lips parted in a cold grin. "You bitch."

"Don't drop your rag, Ms. Morgan. It makes you look unprofessional." Saeth turned and walked away.

"How did you manage it?" Lindsey called after her.

"Grad students. They don't like you either."

Saeth's fingers brushed the interdimensional space she had put Elyta's journals into, reassuring herself they were still there even though she couldn't feel them. She could feel the magic around them and laughed to herself over walking the most important pieces of evidence right past Wolfram and Hart's collective nose. Now to head back to the Hyperion and enlist some help in pouring over them.


	4. Trouble at Home

CHAPTER FOUR –  Trouble at Home

Lindsey scowled at the stack of files on his desk. He desperately needed a new file clerk. His had accidentally stumbled into a meeting with him, Lilah and the firm's new obnoxious upstart, Mark Lustig, and a band of Kolmvan demons. Seeing ten-foot tall creatures made up of little more than translucent purple flesh and teeth, she had screamed. Kolmvan demons hated that. She had disappeared down their gullets in bloody chunks before the lawyers could do anything to stop them, as if they could.

It was one of the things that made Lindsey wonder why he still worked for Wolfram and Hart. He didn't consider himself to be an evil person but he was forced to do some awful things. He was playing with fire and had been badly burned already. And it didn't change the fact that he needed a file clerk. But with Holland's recent death, Wolfram and Hart was still in an uproar.

Lindsey reached for a file, knocking it to the floor. He cursed, having forgotten his dominant hand was now a useless piece of flesh-toned polymer. His brain was still reformatting to accept the idea that he needed to use his other hand. He didn't know why he even bothered wearing the prosthesis. Did it really stop the pitying looks or cause more? All it really did was maintain the streamlined look of his decadently expensive suits. 

He leaned over and scooped up the fallen file, glancing at the name on it. 'Dinklelacker.' God, there was a name he couldn't change fast enough if it were his. He set it on top of Darksidatha Moon's file. As far as he was concerned, Ms. Moon had all the rights in the world for killing her parents for that bit of punnery. And to think he had grown up hating his name; he hadn't realized how lucky he was.

Still, growing up in his barely middle-classed Midwest high school, things had been rough. Not only had he been way below the poverty, short and had a 'girl's' name, he had been smart. He might as well had gone to class with a target painted on his head. He learned quickly how to be a scrapper. It was the one thing his father had taught him, how to fight, how to stand up for himself. He would always owe his dad for that.

Hearing the click of heels, Lindsey turned back to the doorway of his spacious office. He had purposely had wood flooring installed by the door since no sound could be heard over the lush carpets in the firm and he hated being sneaked up on. Lilah stood there in her perfect grey linen suit and behind her was Mark, his platinum blond hair sleeked back.

Lindsey was beginning to hate that man. Maybe it was a little bit of jealousy. Mark was the new guy, younger and rising fast. That had been Lindsey's place in the firm, the young go-getter that everyone was afraid of. Now, he and Lilah had some pretty big stains on their reputations. Before his death, Holland had expressed disappointment in Lindsey.  But him losing a hand for the firm had sponged some of the stains clean. It didn't make him like Mark though. Or maybe it was just that Mark had grown up rich in Boston, gone to Harvard and had a silver spoon sticking out his asshole since the day he was born that made Lindsey hate him so. 

Lindsey had to scrape for everything he got.  It left its mark on him, in his unflagging desire to achieve, on his small body undernourished as a child, in the two tiny caskets that held his flu-slain siblings. Those coffins he saw in his nightmares surrounded by big showy and cheap mums. He hated mums. Their very smell dredged up horrible memories, forced him to remember sleeping in that huge musty bed with all of his siblings jammed under the covers with him, to remember what it felt like to wake up with his brother curled up against him, cold, stiff, eyes closed in death. He felt these trials made him the better man but Mark never let an opportunity slide by where he could remind Lindsey how blue his blood was.

"We need to talk," Lilah said, shutting his office door.

He frowned and didn't invite them to sit. "As if I need to ask about what."

"This thing with the Chumash artifact is getting out of hand," Mark said, perching on the edge of Lindsey's desk, nearly spilling some files to the floor.

Lindsey eyed the blue-suited young man sourly. "And whose fault is that?"

"All of ours," Lilah said. "If Linwood is to be believed."

"I'm not the one who had Dr. Ashworth murdered." Lindsey glared at Lustig. "We were handling things just fine until you overreacted, Mark."

The younger lawyer looked bored. "She was going to smuggle the artifact out of the country. Now, that's not a problem."

"Except that you could have dropped us in the middle of a police investigation," Lindsey said, his living fingers toying with the hilt of his letter opener as he considered just quietly burying it somewhere in Mark.

"The cops here can be bought," Lilah reminded him.

Lindsey nodded, conceding that. "And now all our formal paperwork, which would have gotten us that artifact, is a matter of public record and we're obvious suspects in her murder, thanks to you Mark."

"Give it a rest, Lindsey. I had the balls to do what you couldn't. I eliminated the threat." Lustig smiled at him, no not smiled, Lindsey decided. He was showing his teeth like a feral animal and he didn't dare back down, not even a hair.

"Yeah, until her friend rolls in from overseas," Lindsey said. "Do you think she'll be happy until she finds out who killed Dr. Ashworth?"

Mark laughed. "What do you think she can do? This Dr. Maddoc is just another archaeologist. She's not even an American. She has no access to anything on the dig and so what if she packed up Ashworth's undies for charity or whatever before you could stop her. She's hardly a threat."

"She does know that Wolfram and Hart were interested in that artifact." Lilah shoved back a lock of her long hair, her characteristic smirk absent. "Linwood isn't happy about that."

"She has a copy of all our correspondence including emails. That's really going to upset Linwood," Lindsey said. "She turned that all over to the police."

"If she becomes too much of a problem, she can go the way of her friend," Mark said, his grey eyes narrowing brutally.

"Is that your answer to everything?" Lindsey swallowed hard. He didn't like this at all. He wasn't going to sign on for wholesale murder. That wasn't what he was about. "Assassination? Murder might look good for the short term but for the long run it's just going to generate attention Wolfram and Hart isn't going to want. You don't want to do that." Lindsey rather hoped Mark did get the senior partners attention in a bad way. It would be the best and bloodiest way of getting rid of the snob.

"Don't tell me what to do, cowboy." Mark leaned in close.

Lindsey sat back, wrinkling his nose. Whatever designer cologne Mark wore, he obviously swam in it. It completely overpowered Lindsey's _Bijan for men and made his eyes water. "Hey, you want to sign your death warrant, go ahead." He glanced over at Lilah for support but she remained quiet, buffing her nails on her jacket, affecting boredom. Lindsey knew, however, she was listening intently and absorbing it all._

Mark tapped Lindsey's cheek with his high-buffed manicured fingers. "I think our cowboy wants to throw his rope around the good Dr. Maddoc, Lilah. That's why he's so concerned whether or not I take out a hit on her."

Lindsey's blue-green eyes darkened. For a moment he sat in stunned disbelief over what Mark had said then he snarled, "I'm not your cowboy. And I have no interest in Dr. Maddoc past this case."

"Sure you don't. We both saw you at Dr. Ashworth's apartment. You were practically drooling on Maddoc." Mark shot him a superior little look. "Not that I blame you. She had some great tits and that ass, sweet enough to eat off of."

"You're a pig, Lustig," Lindsey said.

"You did seem a bit taken with her," Lilah said, just stirring the pot. From her look, Lindsey knew she was just out to upset him. She still wanted to be head of their department alone. Sharing it with him was a disappointment. He felt the same way. He knew he shouldn't be shocked by crassness or threats between associates. Wolfram and Hart was rift with power-hungry lawyers and he didn't expect any decorum from any of them.

"But the real question is, what would she want with a charity case like you?" Mark tapped Lindsey's prosthetic hand and he jerked it out of reach, cradling it reflexively. 

Lindsey saw from the looks on Mark and Lilah's faces that they knew Mark had scored a direct hit. God, he hated them both just now. Almost as much as he hated Angel. His plastic hand hurt from the sudden jostling he had just given it. He knew the pain wasn't real but the sharp fire racing up from a limb that no longer existed felt horribly real. The doctors told him they didn't know how to stop phantom pain and that he'd get used to it. He didn't want to get used to it any more than he wanted to show weakness in front of his fellow lawyers like he just had. Mark was savoring it.

"Have you even been with a woman since you lost that arm?" Mark showed him a huge fake smile at that.

"The last one he tried it with shot him down." Lilah gave him a cattish look. "And she was a pro. You would have thought Darla would have been more grateful for what you did for her but I suppose she's not into stumps."

Lindsey's face drained of color at the mention of Darla. That wound was still fresh and bleeding and Lilah could scent it like the shark she was. 

"I guess the question is, has he ever even before the hand went under the ax?" Mark grinned wickedly. "From the way our farm boy acts I'd say he doesn't know what to do with a woman."

"Get out of my office," Lindsey grated past clenched teeth. "Out. Now.  And I'm not going to let you drag me down with this artifact debacle, Lustig."

"What debacle? We have the artifact in our vaults and we're already on the trail of the companion artifact to go with the tomolo. Ashworth didn't know about it, no one does. The stink Maddoc is putting on this will blow over in days." Mark said, getting off Lindsey's desk. "And I'll be the hero when all is said and done. Maybe they'll give me your office and you can go off and practice your one-hand stroking." He mimed a little jacking off for Lindsey

Lindsey, for his part, refrained from crushing Mark's head in with an object d'art. "Lilah, when this blows up in our face, don't make me tell you I told you so."

She just smiled and sauntered out of the office with Mark in tow. Lindsey got out of his chair and stared out the window. He had a gorgeous view, which was wasted on him at the moment. He shouldn't have let them get to him. It was the worst thing he could have done. But it hurt, the reminder of Darla and of his loss. He shouldn't have denied noticing Dr. Maddoc. A blind man would have noticed her. And he had spared a few moments thinking of what he'd like to do with that luscious body. He was a man, after all. 

But that didn't mean he had any plans on acting on that. She was in the enemy camp. And maybe his associates had a point. He was self-conscious about his arm. How could he not be? He had tried with Darla but it was some weird desperate love. He needed to feel love, to feel something and he knew it was wrong. He had stopped himself with great reluctance. The fact her body was disease-ridden before it became a vampire host again had a lot to do with that. But his arm had just as much to do with it. He had been ashamed to let her see him without the prosthesis. He was afraid to let anyone see, really. He wasn't sure he could handle being laughed at, or worse, see pity reflecting in a lover's eyes. He could barely look at it himself. Nights were the hardest part of his day. Showering, going to bed, anything that required him to see the ruined end of his arm sent a frisson of pain through him. And some days, the one thing that kept him going was the thought of making Angel pay for what he'd done. 

With a heavy sigh, Lindsey turned back to his files.


End file.
